Saturday, March 29, 2014

I'm currently on a short break in Dellys, which is providing many incidental opportunities for linguistic observation. Here are a few, randomly chosen and not guaranteed to interest anyone but me:

- What kind of insufferable pedant "translates" merguez مرڤاز into Standard Arabic, on a butcher's signboard I spotted, as naqāniq نقانق "sausage"? And would they still do so if they were aware that the latter is a Greek loanword, deriving from loukanikos? Sometimes I feel that the problem with Modern Standard Arabic, for Algeria, is precisely that it's modern and standard: too extensively modernised to connect Algeria satisfactorily with its pre-colonial past, and too standardised for Algerians to feel comfortable tinkering with its vocabulary.

- There are very few Berber loanwords here that retain the nominal prefix, but I heard one or two new ones. The list so far: amalu أمالو "wet shady spot", axiṛ أخير "good morning", aqsil / lə-qsil أقسيل "grass sp.", tirẓəẓt تيرززت "small wasp", taɣənnant تاغنّانْت "stubbornness". None, unfortunately, seem to have plurals...

- Talking of which, I registered for the first time the handy "conjunction" məqqaṛ مقّار "at least", a concept I had previously had to express using French (au moins) or Standard Arabic (ʕala l'aqall) when speaking Darja. This conjunction is shared with Kabyle, but also with Andalusi Arabic (makkār مكّار) – Corriente derives it from Greek ō makarie "lucky you", but I'm not sure whether to accept that etymology.

- I belatedly realised that ṣəṛwəl صرْول, cypress, is actually from Arabic sarw سرو, with an unexplained extra letter. Another case in point: rəɣwən رغْون "to foam up" – cp. rəɣw-a رغوة "foam (n.)". Where extra letters like these come from is one of the great mysteries of Semitic, frequently discussed but never really explained.

- There's not much true code-switching into French going on here, at least not in my social circle, but I did overhear the following excellent sentence: ṛana en plein ṭyab رانا آن پلان طياب "we're in the middle of cooking". Note that en plein is selecting for a verbal noun: one could say ṛana mʕa ṭṭyab رانا معا الطياب "we are (busy with) cooking" with a preposition and a verbal noun, or ṛana nṭəyybu رانا نطيّبو "we are cooking" with a finite verb, but not *ṛana ṭṭyab.

- An interrogative relative clause with an unexpected nominal head: makaš drari mʕa-mən təlʕəb ماكاش دراري معامن تلعب "there are no kids for her to play with". The negative existential context is presumably what favours it.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

How is it possible that, in Algeria – a state normally obsessed with the need to combat divisive ideas – openly sectarian slogans like "Malikism, Malikism, national power" or "The Ibadi is the enemy of God" can be shouted by rioters and painted on the walls of burnt-out shops, in 2014? What's going on is far too localised to be explained in terms of "Arabs" and "Berbers" (contra AFP); at most, it's between Chaamba (Sh`ānba) and Mzabis (Mozabites). But the Mzabis speak Berber, practice Ibadi Islam (a small minority sect), are native to the town, and have a famously strong mercantile tradition; the Chaamba speak Arabic, practice Maliki Islam (like the rest of Algeria), used to be nomads with a strong martial tradition, and by and large are less well off. The potential economic and political causes for resentment should be obvious – and, indeed, the shops ransacked generally belonged to Mzabis, and the largely Arab local police stood aside. It is not surprising that both sides are using broader identities – Arab or Berber, Maliki or Ibadi – to appeal for help, and the Chaamba rioters are clearly demonising Ibadis, but it's housing shortages that reportedly initially triggered these riots.

Oddly enough, however, not only language but even etymology is being used as a tool of division. As I looked through page after depressing page on the events, I was surprised to notice that, while Mzabi pages, and neutral ones, spelled Ghardaia غرداية (Ghardāyah), Chaambi pages rather consistently spelled it غارداية (Ghārdāyah). The latter spelling turns out to be based on a folk etymology, deriving the name of "Ghardaia" from Arabic ghār "cave" plus Dāyah, the name of a woman – who some Chaamba claim was from the Arab tribe of Said Atba, proving that Arabs got there before the Mzabis did (قبائل الشعانبة… بنو سُليم الجزائر.) Mzabis have a version of the same etymology, in fact (chanson amazigh mozabit) – but according to them, Daya was a saintly Ibadi woman from Touat, proving that they were there first.

Either version is problematic, since the name is pronounced ɣərdāya (Berber taɣərdayt), not ɣārdāya. The Said Atba idea is especially implausible: in 1053, when Ghardaia was reportedly founded, Ibadi Berbers had been trading across the Sahara for centuries, whereas Arab nomads had barely begun to reach the area. Phonetically, the more obvious etymology is Mzabi Berber taɣərdayt "mouse" – but who'd name a town "Mouse"? Delheure suggested a derivation from tiɣərdin "shoulders", a term found in Ouargli Berber, based on its topography (followed eg here). Dabouz compares it to a Nafusi term reportedly meaning "land next to a wadi". No proposal seems entirely satisfactory, which is itself an indicator of the placename's antiquity.

Be that as it may, this pointed use of "cave of Dāyah" reinforces my impression that what's going on is a mapping of economic grievances onto ethnic/religious categories. Adding this one letter effectively says "Mzabis own this place, but by rights it should be ours" – a thoroughly wrong attitude. الله يهديهم ويهدينا!

Thursday, March 13, 2014

I am very happy to announce here (a couple of days late) that my book Berber and Arabic in Siwa (Egypt) has now come out. The oasis of Siwa in Egypt, already famous in Classical times for its Oracle of Ammon, is by far the easternmost place where Berber is spoken. As a result of its isolation from the rest of Berber, and of a history that includes significant immigration and language shift, the Berber variety spoken there is highly distinctive (and not mutually comprehensible with Moroccan or Algerian Berber). On the one hand, some of the most persistent quirks of Berber grammar have been substantially simplified; on the other, even highly irregular core Berber morphology has been retained, and massive influence from Arabic – including the borrowing of productive root-pattern morphology – has generated new complexities. Based on part of my doctoral thesis but significantly expanded, this book:

proposes a classification of Siwi within Berber, and a corresponding probable account of where this Berber variety originated;

describes the grammar of Siwi, in greater detail than any previous work;

establishes how, and how much, long-term contact with Arabic has affected its grammar;

examines the dialectal affiliations of Arabic loans in Siwi, providing further evidence that this contact involved very different varieties at different periods;

provides a number of fully glossed Siwi texts of different genres, illustrating Siwi grammar and casting light on Siwi culture.

Thanks once again to everyone who helped in this process, and especially my friends in Siwa. To all those who find this sort of thing interesting, I hope the book comes in handy!

Like “the house that Jack built”, this cumulative tale helps
children learn to understand recursive causation. There are a few
dialectal or idiolectal differences from the Korandjé I’ve heard,
minor but striking to my ears. Following Marijn
van Putten’s example, I’ll put it up here – comments very
welcome! Etymology is marked by colour: yellow for Arabic, blue for
Berber, and unmarked for Songhay.

Comments: This is an
alarmingly literal translation of the widespread North African “Once
upon a time” formula, ħajit-ək ma jit-ək.
This fixed formula is barely interpretable in Arabic, but one
grammatically possible parse corresponds to the Korandjé here.
iħaža, of course, is
a Maghrebi Arabic loan, from ħaji
“tell a story” (possibly via Berber).

1. إيشنّ
احّلّق موشفُكدّا. – خلق
الله قطا صغيرا

išann a-ħħəlləq
muš=fʷ kadda.

God 3Sg-create cat=one
small

God created a little
cat.
Dieu a créé un petit chat.

Comments: išannu,
historically a compound “our master”, has fallen into disfavour
in modern Tabelbala; most speakers now prefer the dialect Arabic
equivalent mula-na.
ħəlləq “create”
is from Maghrebi Arabic xləq,
with an irregular shift x >
ħ, probably the result of place dissimilation, paralleled in the
Arabic of the Touat region (cf.
Bachir Bouhania). Songhay, Berber, and local Arabic all have more or less the same word for “cat”, so it’s difficult to say
which source Korandjé got the word from; provisionally, I assume
it’s inherited.

Comments: I’ve never
heard any modern speaker pronounce“seek”
as emphatic; the pronunciation I always heard was [tsɛlla] /
[tsɨlla]. For the etymology of this Berber loan, cf. Zenaga pf.
yə-llāh, impf.
yə-ttälla(a)h
“chercher” (Taine-Cheikh 2010); unusually, it seems to derive from the imperfective
rather than the perfective.

4. ايتا
عابتلاّ (ذ) إدرامن.
– ها أنا أبحث عن النقود

əytsa
ʕ-ab-tsə̣llạ
(ḏ) idṛạmən.

lo 1Sg-PROG-seek (?)
money

I'm looking for...
money.
Je cherche... de l’argent.

Comments: There’s a
clearly audible ḏ before “money”, but I can’t figure
out a plausible reason for it. əytsa
“lo!” is probably Berber, cp. Kabyle aṯan.idṛạmən “money” is
a formally plural noun taken from Berber, ultimately from Arabic
dirham (itself from
Greek drachma).

5. ما
نبغ إدرامن؟ – لماذا تريد النقود؟

mə
n-bə̣ɣ idṛạmən

why 2Sg-want money

Why do you want money?
Pourquoi veux-tu de l’argent ?

Comments: “Want” is
one of two quasi-verbs in Korandjé – the other is “exist” –
that does not take mood/aspect morphology. I’ve heard maɣạ
and mạʕạ for
“why” > Berber ma-ɣər, but never just ma/mə
as here.bə̣ɣ
“want” looks suspiciously like Arabic bɣa,
but actually it has a regular Songhay etymology, *baga.

6. عمذينذي
فركا. – لأشتري بها حمارا

ʕə-mm- ə
dzay=ndz.i fə̣ṛka.

1Sg-IRR- uh
buy=with.3Pl

So I can buy a donkey
with it.
Pour que j’en achète un âne.

Comments: Modern
speakers usually have a slightly more reduced vowel in “buy” –
[dzɛi], or even just [dzɨi]. Note the 3Pl, agreeing with
idṛạmən.

Comments:
I’ve never heard “clay” with an emphatic vowel either; modern
speakers usually say [læ:bu]. nəggə̣ṛ
is presumably from Arabic naqala
“transport”, but I need to double-check its meaning is also normally not emphatic now.

9. ما
نبغ لابو؟ – لماذا تريد الطين؟

ma
n-bə̣ɣ lạbu?

why 2Sg-want clay

Why do you want clay?
Pourquoi veux-tu de l’argile ?

10. عمكا
آضّب. – لأصنع الطوب

ʕa-m-kạ
ạḍḍə̣b.

1Sg-IRR-hit brick

So I can make bricks.
Pour que je fasse des briques.

Comments:
kạ ạḍḍə̣b
“make (lit. hit) bricks” is a fixed expression; kạ
can be used in some other contexts to mean “work”. ạḍḍə̣b
“brick” (pl. iḍḍụbən)
is a Berber-style adaptation of Arabic al-ṭūb,
which, transmitted via Spanish, also gives us English adobe.

Comments:
Note that fạṭna
“Fatima” shows place dissimilation, a regular process in many
Atlas Berber varieties, suggesting that this version of the name
reached Korandjé via Moroccan Berber rather than directly via
Arabic.

15. عمذاكا
محمد نذا فاطنة. – لأضع
فيها محمدا وفاطمة

ʕa-m-dza=a.ka
muħəmməd
ndza fạṭna.

1Sg-IRR-put=3Sg.at
Muhammad and Fatima

So I can put Muhammad
and Fatima into it.
Pour que j’y mette Mohamed et Fatma.

So I can build myself a
fl- so they can herd for me a flock.
Pour que je me construise un tr–
pour qu’ils me paissent un troupeau.

Comments: isrəħ
“herd, graze” is Arabic srəħ.
tsawala “flock
(cared for by turns)” is Moroccan Berber, and is probably a later
re-borrowing of the same word that yields Korandjé tsara
“(a) time”.

18. ما
نبغ تاوالا؟ – لماذا تريد قطيعا؟

mə
n-bə̣ɣ tawala?

why 2Sg-want flock

Why do you want a
flock?
Pourquoi veux-tu un troupeau ?

19. عمكواكا
هوّا. – لأستخرج منه الحليب

ʕa-m-kaw=a.ka
huwwa.

1Sg-IRR-remove=3Sg.at
milk

So I can get milk from
it.
Pour que j’en obtienne du lait.

Comments: As with
“buy”, modern speakers usually have a rather more reduced vowel
in “remove” – more like [kçəu].

20. ما
نبغ هوّا؟ – لماذا تريد الحليب؟

ma
n-bə̣ɣ huwwa?

why 2Sg-want milk

Why do you want milk?
Pourquoi veux-tu du lait ?

21. عمكواكا
ڤي. – لأستخرج منها السمن

ʕa-m-kaw=a.ka gi.

1Sg-IRR-remove=3Sg.at
ghee.
Pour que j’en obtienne du s’men.

Comments: By an amusing
coincidence of sound and meaning, gi
means more or less the same as English “ghee”.

22. ما
نبغ ڤي؟ – لماذا تريد السمن؟

ma
n-bə̣ɣ gi?

why 2Sg-want ghee

Why do you want ghee?
Pourquoi veux-tu du s’men ?

23. عمْيننذا
رسول الله ن تالبّسْت(؟).
– لأدهن به ؟؟ رسول الله

ʕa-m-yən=ndz.a
ṛạsuləḷḷạh-n
tsagʷḍḍə̣st[?].

1Sg-IRR-anoint=with.3Sg
Messenger_of_God GEN lock

So that I can anoint
with it the Messenger of God’s hair-lock.
Pour que j’en oigne le ?? de
l’Envoyé du Dieu.

Comments: I can’t
seem to make out that last word – the speaker tails off – but it
seems to have the Berber feminine circumfix.ṛạsuləḷḷah
is an Arabic compound, rasūl
“messenger” and Allāh
“God”. By the way, despite appearances, n
is not Berber – given the associated word order, it can more
plausibly be derived from an irregular shortening of Songhay wane
(see Kossmann).

Korandjé
is generally thought of as a contact-intensive language – so how
mixed is this sample? Well, there are two ways to count (excluding,
in any case, bound morphemes and incomplete words), depending on what
we do with words that occur more than once. If we count by token,
then we count the same word each time it appears; if we count by
type, then we count
the same word only once.

By
token, we have 84 words: 52 Songhay, 12 Arabic, 20 Berber. So 62% of
the text is Songhay, 14% Arabic, and 24% Berber.